Borger’s face became serious. “Then there’s something I need to tell you.”
Alison. You back.
“I’m back,” Alison nodded. “Just like I promised.”
We happy for you back.
Alison looked over her shoulder and smiled at Lightfoot floating next to her. “So are we.”
You come for plants.
“Not this time.” Alison reached down and retrieved a small device from a pocket on her BCD. It was the device Borger brought.
They knew what they were dealing with now. The plants were the same, which suggested the cause had to be the same. Just like at Acarai, something was in the water. Now they just needed to find the source.
The device in her hand came on automatically and glowed with a soft blue light. On the mountain, it had measured the concentration levels of a very special compound, which ultimately led them to the secret vault. Now they were trying to find the second source: the ship.
Alison twisted around, studying the display. She kicked forward, traveling twenty yards, but there was no change. She turned and swam further still, but could not see anything different. Then it hit her.
In the jungle, it was easier. There was a flow of water, and it was one directional.
“What’s wrong?” Lightfoot asked.
“It’s not working.”
“Why not?”
“Because what this is looking for isn’t in front of us, or behind us. It’s everywhere.”
Alison began to call up to Lee, but stopped when she spotted Dirk and Sally, floating patiently in place.
No plants.
“No. Not the plants this time.”
Come Alison. Come now. We show.
Both dolphins thrust their tails and moved past her and Lightfoot, who both turned and followed. Together they descended back into the darkness and watched as the green glow eventually reappeared below them. The effect was both eerie and breathtaking.
The dolphins continued downward, pausing to allow Alison and Lightfoot to catch up.
Hold us.
Alison glanced curiously at Lightfoot before wrapping her hand around Sally’s dorsal fin. Then he did the same to Dirk. The dolphins continued, diving deeper into the expanse of dense vegetation.
When they reached a small drop-off, the dolphins dropped with it, skimming over the tops of enormous sea plants, all shining brightly under their headlamps. They suddenly ducked beneath long waving tendrils, and saw a dark yet thriving dip in the coral. Leading the way, Dirk slowed and approached the area carefully. Yet when he reached the wall of plants, Dirk didn’t stop. Instead he continued forward smoothly, passed through the vegetation, and disappeared inside. Alison barely had time to blink before Sally did the same.
Both human passengers watched incredulously as the underwater growth extended through a small passageway –– through coral tight enough that it caused them to bump repeatedly against the sides.
Gigantic green plants billowed before them, brushing their masks and rolling past harmlessly.
Still holding tightly onto Sally, Alison remembered her device, brought it up to her face, and then gasped. The concentrations were off the chart! It was from here that the nourishing compounds were emanating.
The dolphins reached the other side of the passage and emerged into something much larger.
With her mouth open, Alison let go of Sally and slowed. Just several feet ahead, Lightfoot instinctively did the same upon seeing what lay before them.
Neither moved for a long time. Instead they remained, floating still in the water. It was a cavern. And it looked as though the coral had grown over it, sealing the cavity off from above. The area was approximately fifty yards across with thick columns of coral twisting and extending below in places, providing a natural support system.
And as small as the cavern was in width, it extended much deeper below them, covered in even thicker vegetation.
But it was what the vegetation had attached itself to that left Alison and Lightfoot completely speechless.
Enveloped within a vast green glow was something metal. Manufactured. With powerful looking gray walls and a smooth surface, the structure extended less than a hundred feet before it was completely consumed by the vines and tendrils of plant life around it.
Along one side, and partially obscured, were strange markings. Reminiscent of what Alison had seen in the mountains of Guyana.
Lightfoot pushed himself forward, mesmerized. He closed in, studying the wall of metal. “It looks perfect, without a mark on it.” He reached forward and gingerly touched a finger to the object. A green glow rippled out in a small circle, then disappeared.
Lightfoot turned and looked back at Alison, hovering just behind him. He then pressed his entire hand against it to see a larger circle ripple out, before fading again.
Alison peered down through the water. The ship’s hull descended further than she could see. She reached out and brushed her hand across the surface of the wall, watching as a green trail briefly followed her glove.
Sally and Dirk floated next to them, barely moving their fins.
This you look Alison.
Alison blinked behind her mask and smiled. “Yes. This is what we were looking for.” She continued staring in awe. It was unlike anything she had ever seen.
Borger was right.
Two hours later, Langford picked up his ringing cell phone and answered it.
“Langford.”
On the other end, Wil Borger stared at the phone in the middle of the small table. Sitting in the room with him were Captain Emerson, Neely, and lastly, Alison, sporting wet but neatly brushed hair.
“Admiral, it’s Borger. I’m here with Captain Emerson, Alison, and Neely Lawton.”
“Good morning. I hope you’re calling with good news.”
“You could say that.” He turned to Neely and nodded.
“Admiral, this is Commander Lawton.” She leaned forward, toward the phone. “I’ve confirmed that the samples we’ve recovered here on the sea floor contain the same genetic properties as the plants from Guyana.”
“You’re sure?”
“There are still a few more tests to run when we return, but yes, sir. I’m sure.”
“Thank you, Commander. That is good news.”
Borger frowned slightly. The admiral’s tone sounded more somber than he was expecting. Even for him.
“Is everything all right, sir?”
“Everything is fine,” he replied. “Captain Emerson, under the circumstances, I’d like you to hold your position and await further instructions.”
“Aye, Admiral.”
Borger cleared his voice. “Uh, Admiral. We also have something else to tell you.”
“Go ahead.”
Borger glanced around the table at the others.
“Sir, for this…I think you’re going to want to sit down.”
93
The morning sun was barely climbing into the sky as a gray Crown Victoria was waved through the airport’s southern gate. It sped past the row of nondescript aircraft hangars, heading directly for the Gulfstream sitting on a private tarmac.
Upon reaching the plane, the car slowed and came to a stop, where one of the rear doors was immediately opened. Secretary of Defense Miller stepped out in full uniform, closing the door behind him. He walked to the metal staircase and climbed briskly to the top, stepping inside the cabin.
Admiral Langford and CIA Director Hayes were already seated inside, waiting. Each sitting on opposite sides of the aisle.
Miller grinned at the obvious tension between the two and sat down, just seconds before the heavy door was closed behind him.
After remaining an independent and self-governing province for nearly four hundred years, the Republic and Canton of Geneva rejoined the Swiss Confederacy in 1815, establishing itself as Switzerland’s westernmost region. Surrounded by the lush green hills of France on nearly all sides, the French-speaking canton remained the most metropolitan an
d wealthiest in the region. And was home to some of the most powerful multinational corporations in the world.
The Gulfstream’s flight lasted eight hours before the aircraft circled and began its final approach. After touching down, it taxied to a secure location at the Geneva Airport and slowed to a stop.
In the darkness, two black SUVs stood waiting, surrounded by several CIA agents. The three men descended the stairs and approached their security detail. Hayes then immediately climbed into the first truck, leaving Langford and Miller to the second. Conducting a final scan of the area, the agents opened their own doors and climbed in around them.
The traffic along the route was light, allowing the two-car caravan to reach Vernier in less than thirty minutes. The small municipality was well-known as home to one of the wealthiest offshore drilling companies in the world. A conglomerate with immense power, yet now perhaps one of the most tarnished reputations in the industry. Transocean Limited would forever be known as the owner of the drill rig responsible for the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, and the largest accidental marine spill in petroleum history.
When Langford, Miller, and Hayes were escorted into the lobby of the company’s headquarters, a member of the Transocean staff was waiting for them.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” an attractive female said pleasantly. With short black hair, she was impeccably dressed in a red and black colorblock skirt suit. “I’m Alessia Bierle. We’re privileged to have you here and hope your trip was enjoyable.”
“It was fine. Thank you,” Langford replied.
“Can I get you anything before heading upstairs?”
“No, thank you.”
“Very well. Then please follow me and we’ll head up.”
The woman led them to the elevator and held it open for their visitors. Once inside, Bierle pushed the button for the top floor and turned to them, smiling. “Our executive team is waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Ms. Bierle,” Miller nodded. Hayes had yet to speak.
The elevator opened into an elaborate meeting room with light marble flooring and a modern design, giving it a clean and efficient look. Bierle led them across the room and gestured to the three closest chairs at the table. On the other side sat several men, all in their fifties and sixties, who immediately stood with welcoming yet cautious expressions.
The man in the middle smiled at all three men and extended his hand across the dark table.
“Good morning,” he said in a thick French accent. “We are very pleased to meet you.”
Admiral Langford shook his hand and quickly selected a chair, signaling his desire to dispense with pleasantries. He sat down, followed by Miller, Hayes, and the rest of the room.
A man named Abel Abegg, the president of Transocean, was dressed impeccably in a dark blue Brioni suit and eased himself down, studying the three Americans. They were clearly not there to waste time.
“What is it that we can help you with, Admiral?”
“We’re interested in one of your mobile drill rigs in the Caribbean. The one that you’re replacing.”
Abegg nodded. “Ah, you’re referring to the Nordic. We just put the newer ultra-deepwater unit in place two weeks ago and are running simulation tests.” He looked curiously among all three men. “What is it about the Nordic that you’d like to know?”
Miller cleared his throat. “It’s not the newer one we’re interested in. It’s the older rig being removed.”
Abegg looked confused. “The old rig? You mean the Valant?”
“Correct,” answered Langford.
“I don’t understand,” Abegg replied, glancing briefly at the rest of his team.
“You are removing it?”
“Yes, of course. We must. Regulations mandate all rigs be replaced if they pose a significant structural risk.”
At this, Langford grinned. “Regulations haven’t exactly been your strong suit.”
His comment caused several eyes to narrow across the table, and the pleasant expression on their president’s face disappeared. “You’re speaking of the Deepwater accident.”
“We’ve come here with an opportunity, Mr. Abegg.”
He stared at Langford. “Is that right? An opportunity for whom may I ask?”
Langford met the man’s gaze. “For your redemption.”
Abegg slowly smiled. “Redemption?”
“That’s right.”
“Redemption of what, exactly?”
“Redemption for knowing that cutting the wrong corners resulted in the largest oil spill and manmade disaster on record. And an expensive lesson.”
“A very expensive lesson,” Abegg replied.
“Indeed.”
“So, what sort of redemption are we speaking of?” Abegg asked.
Miller answered. “Another mistake.”
“Excuse me?”
“Another mistake,” repeated Langford.
“I don’t understand.”
“The old rig you’re bringing back to dismantle. It needs a problem.”
“It needs a problem?” The president looked again at his officers on either side, then turned back to Langford with a grin. “And this problem is supposed to be our redemption?”
“That’s right.”
Abegg merely stared at Langford. “Exactly what kind of problem do you have in mind?”
“That’s up to you. We only care about the location.”
94
John Clay awoke and slowly examined the light-colored blanket tucked neatly around him. The high rails on either side told him it was a hospital bed. Without moving his head, he followed the blanket up to his chest, where he found clear tubes running to either side.
The room came into focus quickly. It was sparsely decorated with little more than a service table and a television high on the opposite wall. He moved both hands and felt something soft to his right.
He turned his head to see a chair pulled close to the bed. Curled up uncomfortably and still sleeping was Alison. Her arm extended across the edge of the bed with her hand resting on top of Clay’s.
Clay watched her as she slept. Even with tussled hair and her head resting awkwardly on a pillow atop the chair, he smiled at how beautiful she was.
He was overcome with emotion, staring longingly into a face he thought he would never see again. He took a deep breath and smiled.
Alison’s eyes fluttered open and stared at him. But only for a moment before jerking upright. “You’re awake!”
Clay smiled. Even her voice was beautiful.
Alison leaned forward to hug him gently.
“When did you get here?” he asked.
She smiled and pulled his hand to her cheek. “As soon as I could.”
A flood of emotions overwhelmed him and Clay’s eyes began to well with tears. “I-I didn’t think-”
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m here now.”
He smiled again and nodded.
Alison lowered his hand, then stood up and leaned in closer to kiss him. When she sat back down, it was on the edge of his bed.
“How do you feel?”
“Old.”
She chuckled. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Everything hurts.” He grimaced and pulled the blanket to the side, examining the cast he felt on his leg. “What day is it?”
“Saturday, the twelfth.”
He peered through the window into a blue sky with soft scattered clouds. “Where are we?”
She grinned. “Honolulu. At the Queen’s Medical Center.”
“Hawaii?”
“Yep.”
He leaned his head back. “Not exactly how I would have wanted to bring you here.”
Alison looked down and straightened the blanket across his chest. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”
“I know. It was probably better you didn’t. Besides, I had my own problems.”
His eyes narrowed. “What happened?”
She was still looking down at the blanket and pursed her lips tight, but it didn’t prevent what was coming. Alison began to tremble and she fell forward, softly into him. “We lost Juan.”
Clay was stunned. “What?!”
“We lost Juan,” she repeated, sobbing.
“Oh no.” He brought her in closer. “I’m so sorry.”
Clay didn’t need to ask. He knew what Caesare and his team were up against, and he knew how often things went awry, no matter how well-planned. He put his bandaged arm around her, trying to ignore the pain.
After a minute, she looked up and tried to wipe the tears away. “And Chris!”
“Chris?!”
Alison nodded. “He’s in the hospital. There was an accident aboard the ship. The doctors think he’s going to be okay, but we almost lost him too.”
He nodded and squeezed her. “What about Steve?”
“He’s okay, and DeeAnn and Dulce. But he lost two of his men.”
Clay closed his eyes, shaking his head. Nearly everything had gone wrong. Juan, Chris, and now two of Caesare’s team.
He reached up and brushed some hair away from Alison’s face. “Not our finest moment, was it?”
She stared at him and wiped her eyes. With a sniff she said, “Well, I’m not sure if I’d go that far.”
She forced a small smile at Clay’s inquisitive look. “We did manage to find something. Something big.”
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Alison got up and walked across the room to open it, finding Caesare there, quiet and somber. He stepped in, wearing an arm sling and a grave face.
Clay had seen that look before. “How you doin’?”
Caesare shook his head. “Not all that great. How are you?”
“Better than I was.”
“I bet.” He stopped at the foot of the bed. “You hear about Juan, and Corso, and Anderson?”
“I did. I’m really sorry.”
Caesare nodded. “Not much went our way. Doesn’t look like too much went your way either.”
Clay forced a grin. “I guess it depends on how you look at it.”
Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3) Page 36